DEATH IS NOT DYING
by Jay V. Ruvolo
She says my soul is her blank slate,
a clay tablet for her to impress.
She passes through my heart again,
what she isn’t sure she believes.
I call out her name in my dreams.
I wake waiting for her to respond.
She continues to hammer her tacks
into my head.
I ask her to stop.
She says I never listen.
Source: Death is not Dying